


Alignment

by h0ldthiscat



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, fic requests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4324926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0ldthiscat/pseuds/h0ldthiscat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all seems so silly now, she thinks in the blinding brightness of his kitchen, that she’d been worried about moving too quickly, about protecting both their hearts. She’d been his in her heart for so long she could scarcely remember a time when she wasn’t. Now, she knows, he will gloat.</p>
<p>She’ll allow it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alignment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon on tumblr who wanted some happy goodness between our lovebirds.

When Melissa had come back from her first semester at St. Mary’s, she brought an 8.5 x 11 poster she’d gotten at a garage sale and hung it up in their bathroom. She distinctly remembers curling her sixteen-year-old lip and asking her big sister, “What is that thing you put up?”

“It’s your chakras, Dana,” Missy had answered drolly, glancing up from a book that looked as old as it smelled. “The seven centers of energy that are the same in every body of every age on every continent.”

Scully is sure this was one of the first uses of her now trademark skeptical eyebrow-raise. “Energy centers?”

“It’s not all that different from the physics textbook you’ve got your nose buried in,” Melissa had said gently. “If there are infinitesimally small atoms colliding in a thousand ways every second, who’s to say that those particles aren’t charged with energy--positive and negative, just like your precious electrons--energy that contributes to our overall wellness and mind-body connection?”

“No one’s to say,” Scully had countered, “but that’s just it. That kind of hypothesis, Melissa… it technically can’t even be called a hypothesis because it’s not quantifiable. That’s not science.”

Missy had just shrugged, and Scully chooses to remember her this way, newly nineteen with kohl-rimmed eyes, her big sister who’d said, “Maybe it’s love, then.”

X

She walks into the kitchen in his old bathrobe with a sheepish look on her face. In the white morning light, his grin makes him look ten years younger.

“Good morning,” he says, handing her a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” she murmurs. She does not take a sip right away, she just stares at him, marvels at them, at the world. It had not been their first night together, but it is their first morning.

“Boundaries,” she’d whined that first time, when he’d kept pulling her down on top of him, unbuttoning her blouse again and again.

“That’s absurd,” he’d chuckled. “We have no boundaries, Scully.”

“Well maybe we should.” She’d raised her chin defiantly, crossed her arms over her breasts.

It all seems so silly now, she thinks in the blinding brightness of his kitchen, that she’d been worried about moving too quickly, about protecting both their hearts. She’d been his in her heart for so long she could scarcely remember a time when she wasn’t. Now, she knows, he will gloat.

She’ll allow it.

“You take up more space than I thought you would,” he says, all bedhead and soft eyes.

“You’re a sheet hog,” she counters.

“Yeah, well, all those years of sleeping on the couch haven’t done me much good in that department.”

“I noticed.”

“So does this break your rule?”

“My what?”

“No spending the night,” he reminds her. “We’ve broken a rule.”

“Rules are…” She looks down into her coffee. Stupid, she wants to say, but she doesn’t really believe that. Rules don’t matter with you also comes to mind, but it’s too early for such sentimentality, in her opinion. She starts again, “Rules are…”

“For horseshoes and hand grenades?” Mulder finishes.

It makes absolutely no sense, but she can’t help a grin from spreading across her face. “Yeah, something like that.”

She finally sips her coffee and discovers he has already stirred in the sugar. She must chuckle because he asks, “What?”

She’s always thought knowing how someone takes their coffee is a small, quiet way to say I love you, but she doesn’t say that. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses him softly, chastely; I love you too.

Her lips brush the day-old stubble on his jaw and she says, “Teach me how to work your shower.”

X

She heard the leggy yoga instructor approach her from the side and ask her in whispery tone, “Dana, may I enter your space?”

“Sure,” Scully had puffed on an exhale, wondering how long she could keep her balance in what had been referred to as tree pose. Her roommate had dragged her to this stupid class in hopes of running into the cute guy in her Comparative Lit class, but when they’d shown up he was nowhere to be found.

The instructor, who’d introduced herself as Forest, put her hand on the small of Scully’s back, then at the center. “You’ve got good energy, Dana. There’s a lot of love in your heart chakra.”

Scully teetered on one foot and then had to bring her other foot down to steady herself.

“But there’s a lot of uncertainty, too,” Forest had said, standing in front of her now and placing a thumb on Scully’s forehead. “Your brow chakra is almost completely closed off.”

“Is that bad?”

“There’s no such thing as good and bad, Dana. Just open your mind to the truth and you’ll find whole new worlds you never even knew existed.”

Scully had caught her roommate’s eye across the yoga studio and they’d shared a chuckle on the way home.

“Worlds you never knew existed?” Her roommate laughed as they waited for the Metro. “What does that even mean?”

“Theoretical physics tells us that there could be multiple realities, alternate universes. Endless combinations of outcomes of the possibilities of our lives,” Scully supplied.

“Do you really believe that, Dana?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what I believe.”

X

Her skin is still splotched pink from the heat of the water and the rough slap of his palms when she enters the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her torso, swiping her toothbrush back and forth in her mouth.

“That’s hardly Bureau dress code, Agent Scully,” he drawls, pulling up his boxer briefs.

“Watch yourself, hot stuff,” she fires back, her glance lingering on his just-covered skin.

“I’m a little busy watching you at the moment.”

She gives him a minty smile and then retreats to the bathroom to spit. When she turns around he is there and he kisses her, slow and slick.

“Ew.” She laughs when their lips part.

“I didn’t think that one through,” he admits.

They dress slowly, reveling in the covering of skin almost as much as they do at the exposure of it when they undress each other in the evenings. There is something completely thrilling, she thinks, in knowing every inch of skin under his pressed suit, and knowing that his hands have mapped the expanse of her thighs, the plane of her stomach, the slope of her neck where it becomes her shoulder. They have been emotionally and physically intimate in every way possible, and yet when she knots his tie it feels even more sacred; when he holds out her suit jacket for her to slide into it’s almost too much.

And when he presses his hand on the small of her back to guide her through the door as they leave his apartment together, she feels something cosmic slide into place, and she thinks she understands what Missy had been talking about all those years ago.

“What’s up?” He’s looked up from fishing out his keys and catches the grin on her face.

She decides to humor him. “Mulder, are you familiar with the seven chakras?”


End file.
